Iron
by Gomo19090
Summary: Bonnie finds herself being born into a new world she doesn't understand. At first she thinks she's alone until familiar begin to appear in her new world.


**Alright, I need help with this story. I want to co-write it with anyone who is interested. PM me and we can go over it and my ideas for it. I hope someone's interested.**

I was born _again_ into a world of darkness and iron.

I hadn't noticed my peaceful world of warm darkness until the moment it was shattered. When the black walls began to contract against me, squeezing and pushing me. I panicked. I fought against the force trying to push me from the warmth, I wiggled, I squirmed, but it was all for not. There was pressure on my head before the warmth was zapped from me, leaving me cold. I couldn't breathe, I opened my mouth and tired sucking in air, only to swallow something warm and thick.

I had cried. You see, I hadn't meant to cry, but it was almost instinctual, my mouth opened again and I let out a shrill cry, my lungs filling with air. I was confused and cold. I felt hands on me, large hands, poking and prodding at my body. My vision was a blur of colors... gray, white, and... brown. I couldn't see anything. I cried harder.

I was picked up a moment later after something warm and soft was wrapped around my body, shielding me from the cold, a second later I was being placed into a pair of uncertain arms, as oppose to the certain ones from before. I stopped crying upon being placed into those arms, mostly to look up at into the face of those arms.

Everything was still blurry, but I could make out a brown face, framed by sweaty black hair. A pair of ocean blue eyes stared down at me intently. Why was I so small? Who were these... giants...? I wiggled again in the woman's uncertain hold, catching a glimpse of my small, pink arm. I stared at it, uncurling the tiny fingers. Wait... what now..? Why did I have a baby arm? The last time I checked, I wasn't a baby, at least not a physically, sure my maturity could be questioned at times. But I was still a twenty-one year old college student and witch, living alone in an apartment. But, I wasn't a baby.

"We will send word to Lord Branmon that he has... another daughter." A dull, yet disappointed voice nearly shocked me into crying again. "I will leave now. If she does not feed, send for me to return."

"She's perfect," The woman over me quickly says, her exhaustion clear in her voice. The woman took hold of my small hand, kissing it softly. "She will not disappoint."

The dull voice sounded older then the woman that was holding me, crackling with age. The older woman sighed. "She is not the only one born." The woman says stoically. The air leaves the woman holding me tightly. A second later there's a loud slamming of a door.

The woman hadn't looked away from me even as she spoke to the woman, blue gaze studying me intently. "You will be special, my little Bonnie." The corner of her lips lift in a subdued smile. "You have your father's eyes."

I blink because...what? I do have my father's eyes but I do not know this woman. But no, back up. Why was that my biggest issue with what's going on? _Why not freak out about the fact that this woman was holding you like a freaking baby, girl?_

While I had mentally berated myself, the woman was tugging down her pale yellow top, revealing her breasts to me, carefully pulling me towards the left one. I had squirmed and pulled away. I was not having any of that. What in the heck was going on? I had to find away out of this.

(O)

I was a baby. It didn't take me long to figure that out because, well, I'm not a baby and I'm not an dummy. I had no idea how this happened, I had no idea why it happened, but it was a fact. I was a baby. A freaking, poopy, crying, slobbering baby. I was not sure if this was some weird dream or some type of spell... One thing was for sure, something strange was going on.

It explained why everything was _so_ big and I was _so_ small, it explained why I couldn't talk besides a few sad gurgling noises, it explained why I couldn't move, couldn't see, but most of all, it explained why _that_ woman kept trying to get me to take her breasts.

"She won't feed." The woman's desperate voice brings me out of my feigned sleep, it was the only way to keep her from trying to get me to suckle on her breasts. I shivered. _Suckle..._ "I don't understand, Lady Ann. What am I doing wrong?" The woman held me tightly in her arms, she had been pacing the tiny area of the home for about an hour now.

Lady Ann, odd name, sighed. "Let me take a look at her," I'm handed over after a brief hesitation, and in seconds I find myself laying on the bed I shared with the woman, my blanket unwrapped from around my body. The quick movements made me dizzy, I wiggled and squirmed as the old woman's fingers again poked at my body. Her fingers sent, quick, painless lines of electricity through my body, which confused the heck out of me. I had wrote it off as a weird baby thing. "She's healthy," the woman commented dully, "besides the effects of her not eating in three days."

"Then why won't she eat? "

"I assume it is because she has no desire too." Lady Ann said tonelessly. _Yeah, if she would offer me something a little less breast milky, I may consider it. I would even take a bottle._ "Some babies die, Tarla."

Tarla was to me in seconds, scooping me up into her arms, re-wrapping me in the blanket. "Not this one..." Tarla had bit out coldly.

Lady Ann had been silent for so long I couldn't help wiggling around to catch a glimpse of the old woman. "Oh yes," the woman said coldly, "this is one is your third attempt at conception." She nods, expression as dull as ever. " He will likely lose faith in you."

Tarla's body stiffened, her hold on me tightened even more. "What can I do, Lady Ann?"

"Pray she takes your breasts," with those _extremely_ helpful words... Lady Ann left. The energy leaves the woman who had birthed me as she takes a heavy seat onto the bed. Yes, I had decided it was true, this woman _birthed me_... I was to lazy to deny it anymore. After holding me for a bit, the woman turns be around in her hold, so I'm facing her, her hands supporting my useless neck.

"Bonnie..." She frowned at me. "What are we going to do?" I blinked. "I don't deserve to be your mother." She looked incredibly sad. "I don't even deserve to be here." I frowned, this place wasn't much from what I saw, but my frown was an incredible feat actually, it was insanely hard to do anything with this body. She must have found it amusing, because she laughs a short laugh. "What's with that face, Bon?" I gurgled. Her smile faded. "Should we try again?"

She crawled back onto the bed with me cradled against her chest, and once again she tugs her shirt down, revealing her breasts to me. "Come on, Bonnie, my special girl." She couched. "You can do it, please...my child, please."

Truly, it had been hard fighting the natural instinct to accept the woman's breasts and I was hungry. But that wasn't what untimely drove me to accept the woman's breasts, but it was the fact that she was begging me. Begging me to live.

I swallowed my pride and the tiny amount of denial still left inside me that all this wasn't simply a horrible nightmare. The woman's happiness was clearly felt.

(O)

I wasn't sure how old I was, but I could sit up enough to get a better look around my new home. It wasn't much like I had originally thought, a tiny area with a small kitchen on the left, home to a a tiny stove, a counter, and a table; a bed sits in the center of the box shaped home and, well, that was it. There was a couple of doors too, one iron and the other wooden. A shack.

Tarla placed something onto the iron pan over the stove and it loudly sizzled, the scent of cooking meat lifting and filling the room. I had sniffed the air, wishing for teeth to devour it too, but I was pretty sure all I had was lousy gums.

Tarla glanced back at me quite often, likely worried I would crawl off the bed, though I don't think I could crawl yet. At least, hadn't tried yet. I made a mental not to try, at least it gave me something to do. Being a baby was seriously dull... I still looked like myself, at least the baby staring back at me in Tarla's mirror resembled me a little.

Tarla finally turned to me fully. I could see better now, thank you very much. "What are you thinking, Bon Bon?" She asked highly amused. It must have been my expression. In response I did all I could do, I gurgled, waving my small chubby hands at her. She walked towards me, lifting me up into her arms, doing a quick little turn, very graceful. She had often done times done things like that, twirls and spins, I was pretty certain she was a dancer. Her attire certainly suggested she was some _type_ of dancer... I mean, she mostly wore this yellow dress with her stomach exposed, it's top and bottom only connected by thin material along her sides, as well as two arm fulls of jingling gold bracelets. At first I had thought I was reborn into another country, makes sense right? I had thought India, maybe, the woman could certainly be... but, her and Lady Ann spoke in clear English, no accents, nothing but clear 'American accented' English. So with that ruled out, I began thinking she was a type of 'exotic dancer'... though I always thought those types of professionals were paid more, at least enough not to live in a shack. But hey...

I had giggled like I usually would when she would spin around like that, mostly because it was obvious she was doing it to get a reaction out of me. I wasn't the most expressive baby. I simply did not find talking rag dolls and funny faces funny, not with me trying day in and day out to figure out what was going on. I couldn't feel any magic inside of me.

"I have to start practicing again, Bonnie, are you going to help me?" The woman bounced me as we head to the only window in the entire shack. There wasn't much to look at out there besides the back of another home. "Will you help me?" I answered with an enthused gurgle. "You will? Thank you, Bonnie!" She giggled. It was nice to see the woman happy after nearly aging her with stress the first few days after my birth. She once again returned me to the bed, setting me in the center of the bed. "Don't move, let me eat then I'll feed you, Bonnie." This was all strange, I had never had a mother before. At least not having one that I remember being in my life.

At the very mention of another feeding nearly had me crawling off the bed in hopes that hitting the floor would put me out of my misery. But I waited patiently in the middle of the bed as the woman quickly ate her meal of meat and vegetables, a nice meal for someone who lives in a shack. A minute later she returned to me, lifting me up as she positioned herself against the wall behind the bed, tugging her yellow shirt top down off her shoulders.

Once again, I swallowed my pride and scummed to the vile, embarrassing act that was single-highhandedly keeping me alive. _Oh freaking joy._

(O)

The next day she had set me on the floor on a blanket and I was off. I zoomed off the blanket in a quick awkward crawl, giggling like a lunatic, exploring the tiny home. I was free! Tarla watched me at first, making no move to pick me up off the recently swept floors. Once I was near the oven she actually scooped me up into her arms.

"How long have you been waiting to do that, Bonnie?" She laughed softly.

I began walking a week later, I'm not exactly sure how old I was, but Tarla looked astonished but, really, really happy.

"Oh Bonnie, my smart girl." she had gushed. Well, sense I was mobile now and I could hold my own freaking head up, I decided showing her how exactly smart I was in order. She brought out a bag of blocks one day, and it wasn't until then that I realized she likely left me alone in our tiny home and went out while I slept. They were normal blocks, wooden, with painted red letters. She went through the entire alphabet and I humored her by repeating after before fully blowing her away by placing all the the blocks in order by myself. I had never seen someone smile so hard before.

That's when she began 'teaching' me how to read, reading from this book of what I had thought was some type of bizarre and fairly twisted fairy-tail. It was about a man who could tare holes in the earth and make people explode by manipulating the iron in their blood. It was called 'Iron Heart', the man's name was Christopher Pi. Honestly, I was expecting a better name for a guy who could explode people with his mind and created a whole society of high-strung, magical people with the ability to control Iron and other metals. The oddest thing about it was that the woman was teaching me this as if it wasn't a fairy-tail, but an actual history lesson. I had chalked it up to the musing of a bored woman trying to entertain a fairly intelligent baby. I was wrong.

(Time)

A few months later she was fidgety for a week straight. I never asked why. Dumb, yes. If I had, maybe I could have prepared somehow.

I was coming from the bathroom, yes, potty training at it's finest. No, seriously, there was nothing more embarrassing then having a 'stinky' diaper, well, maybe breast-feeding, which was also over, but it was horrible none the less. But yes, I was coming from the tiny bathroom when Tarla called for me. By the way, teething was a bitch, excuse my language but, truly it was an insane bitch. But now I can eat anything I want.

"Bonnie!" She called, obviously not noticing me exiting the bathroom, "Oh there you are." The woman smiled, lips twitching with stress. "Come try this on." She was wearing a dark blue dress like her yellow one but... better? She looked pretty, her dark hair up in a bun, large golden hoops hanging from her ears, she wasn't wearing any make-up, but Tarla hardly needed make-up. She was holding a green dress like hers, but way smaller, obviously for me, it also had sleeves. "Come now, Bonnie."

I frowned and made my way to her, letting her help me into the dress. I hadn't any clothes to take off, since I only had these diaper/underwear things as clothing. "My pretty Bonnie..." She brightly smiled, her fingers combing through my dark hair. I have her hair. "He'll love you." She hugged me.

"What is this for?" I had asked carefully, hoping the thing I had deemed 'baby lipse' wouldn't wiggle into my voice and taint my words. I wasn't a baby and I hated sounding like one. "Are we... going outside?"

"Maybe..." The woman had lightly smiled. "If he allows it." I frowned at that. _If he allowed it?_ _What type of place did I land into to?_ Though I decided to ignore yet another thing. Maybe I was dumb? "Now, go read more of the book." She told me quickly turning to the tiny kitchen, beginning to cook, soon the odor of meat had filled the home. I had sat myself onto the floor beside the bed, the large book in my lap. I wondered why there was no age censored reading material, not that I wanted to read about a talking lemon but... there was a lot of gore and blood and chaos in that book and I was a little queasy.

An hour after she had began cooking, she was a nervous mess. Her perfect bun had long since began to unravel and sweat began to glisten down her face, her attention kept going to the homes one and only window. Then she suddenly froze, half-way to the window and turned sharply to me, nearly scaring me out of my skin.

"When he gets here, you must bow, Bonnie." She told me lifting me from the ground, dusting my behind off. "Don't you sit on the filthy ground again." Uh...okay?

Then the home's door opened, with out a knock, with out a call of warning, nothing but the iron door swinging open and a tall man striding inside. I yelped, because it was so sudden, my yelp obviously drawing his attention. He stared at me and I stared at him.

Tarla was beside me in seconds, tugging me towards the man who stood frozen still in the open doorway. Her hand on my neck reminded me to bow, oops... I bent at my hips because the woman would have broke me if I hadn't.

"Good evening, Lord Branmon." Tarla said rigidly, her own body in a bow. She lifts her body, allowing me to as well. She looks at me. "This is your father, Bonnie, your lord Branmon." I hadn't thought much about who my father was in this life, but I had always thought, in a way, that he had been away fighting some war... something to explain his absence.

Well... that was something. I looked up at the man slowly, my eyes locking onto a pair of dusty hazel eyes, owned by a stoic, yet handsome, young face. His hair was a near blue black and I had thought Tarla had dark hair.

His attention left me, without even so much as a twitch of his brow. "I don't have a lot of time." The man said. Tarla took a hold of my hand slightly, tugging me towards her, allowing the man into the home. He entered, slowly, taking a seat at the tiny table, leaving Tarla to close the iron door.

He wore a gray shirt with a high collar and black pants with dozens of pockets. Tarla held onto my hand tightly as she walked towards the table. "Would you like to eat first... if not, would you like to view your daughter's talents."

His expression of disinterest hardly changed as leaned backwards in the chair. "I do not have time to eat. You should simply give me her report."

My hand had began to go numb because of Tarla's tight grip. "Very well..." The woman said, voice void of all emotions. I frowned up at her. She had spent hours on that meal, sweating over it, carefully cutting the vegetables and meat. "Bonnie, will you greet your father properly?" My hand is let go of, leaving me alone with that man's dull eyes on me.

I wasn't very sure what a proper greeting was, but I bowed once again, stiffly. "Hello, Lord Branmon," I forced myself to say, "It is nice to meet you."

Branmon barely blinked.

"Bonnie is eighteen months old," Tarla said. "She began walking at only seven months, talking a few weeks later. She's incredibly articulate as well." Branmon hardly looked impressed. "Bonnie, go get the book and read it to your father."

I glanced up at her, she wouldn't look at me, but I nodded stiffly anyway and walked to the book sitting on the bed. I picked it up awkwardly in my small arms, flipping to the very first chapter. "The comet Yancy was hurdling towards earth..." I had finished the whole chapter before the man raised his hand, stopping me from speaking anymore. My mouth was dry and my hands had been shaking a little. Branmon's dull stare was unnerving to me then.

"Are you sure the child hasn't simply memorized the words?" He finally spoke, his expression still unimpressed.

"She has not memorized it, my Lord." Her voice had remained stoic. "She was reading before her first year."

Branmon stood. "I have to go."

"To see Agatha?" Tarla suddenly snapped, her perfect calmness shattering. I blinked at her, my book sliding from my hands. The woman blinked at the ground, not looking at the man. "I... You must acknowledge her, she's intelligent and she will not let you down. You'll regret not acknowledging her."

"You, Tarla, are now speaking out of turn." His calmness was oddly simmering with anger.

"I am sorry, my Lord, bu - "

"But nothing," he angrily snapped. "Yes, I am going to see Agatha," he admitted, his arms folding behind his back. "Because Agatha birthed me what you could not, a daughter with an unlimited source of iron energy. When he was born, clans men from as far as North Shore felt her presence. What makes this child any different from the other five females who will have Leo Branmon for a father? She is nothing special, no one wrote to me about feeling another birth a day after my prized daughter. She is nothing special." His gaze lands on me, hard as stone. "There is barely any Iron source in her, I sense nothing special about her, she actually seems below average!"

"Iron source can grow!" Tarla blurted weakly. "It grows with age."

The man shook his head, disgusted. "Your words today, Tarla Branmon, will not go without consequence." Then he left.

I was stunned, staring after the man. I looked up at Tarla. She was staring blankly at the ground, her breathing haggard. She wouldn't look at me. I wasn't even sure if I wanted her to look at me. Then she turned, her whole body crumbling onto the bed.

(O)

She hadn't moved a day later. She hadn't cried, she hadn't actually done anything. I had no idea what to say because I was truly confused. What was all this about Iron source and Iron stuff... why was it a big thing? Why did Branmon, who was supposedly my father refer to me as useless because I didn't have enough of it?

I was hungry and beginning to worry by the next afternoon. I was way to short to reach the oven so I couldn't cook anything, not without a few major burns. Besides, I was more worried about Tarla than eating. She was the only person I had in a world I didn't understand. And, she was also the woman who birthed me, even though I couldn't bring myself to call her my mother, because I had one of those, not a good one, but I had one. But I was sure this woman loved me as much as a 'real' mother could, because I was without a doubt her baby as much as I was my 'real' mom's.

So, I owed her. I owed her a lot. I crawled onto the bed with her, using my tiny stature to wiggle in-between her arms, my forehead pressed into hers. "Are you alright?"

"I'll make you something to eat in a little, Bonnie." She whispered quietly. "Please... give me a moment." Her voice was still void of emotion.

I would have to bring out the big guns. I mentally sighed, placing one of my small hands onto her left cheek. "Why is mommy sad?" I let the baby speak fall into place. I had yet to call the woman mommy, much to her obvious chagrin because I could say everything else but that. It worked. She lifted her head, her ocean blue eyes locked on me.

"What?"

I cocked my head, in a way I remembered little children back home doing - I didn't have a lot of experience with babies. It worked anyway, Tarla tugs my small body into a nearly bone-crushing hug.

"Why are you sad, mommy?" I asked again.

(O)

Tarla never gaze up on trying to make me into something, something special, something I would be finally recognized for by Lord what's-his-name.

The first four years of my life were all spent inside the tiny shack, my only sunlight being the wisps shinning through the tiny window in our kitchen. After Branmon left on that horrible afternoon three years ago, Tarla hadn't left either. Instead, Lady Ann and some other older woman would bring us our food and supplies.

Tarla never said, but I was pretty sure this exile to our shack was her punishment for her words on that night. It gave her a lot of time to teach me though, she constantly taught me things, reading, math, though quickly she came to realize it was easy for me. I was an adult in the body of a child. So, she then moved onto things I struggled with understanding, not because they were hard, but because they weren't... logical... not that being a witch who was surrounded by vampires and other mythical creatures was more logical but... I had never heard of any of the stuff she taught me.

I got the history of Iron heart easy, I treated it as if it was simply a story. Then she began to explain things in detail.

Like the history of the _Four Lands of Legacy,_ apparently there was four main bodies of land on this half of the Earth composed of four mountains, she only went into detain about two of the land formations. First was the Mountain named Nature, the other was Named Artificial, I had snorted, because they weren't a very clever names, but Tarla had blinked at me until I shut up. But Nature is home to the Natural Bloods, which I obviously didn't understand until she explained it to me. Natural Bloods can control water, land, and fire, the natural elements; while Artificial bloods controlled metals and things man-made and harsher. I still didn't understand. I still didn't believe her. So, Tarla showed me.

The woman's fingers sprouted iron. Let me once again say it... Her fingers sprouted iron. No, really... One by one her fingers were coated by shiny black iron. She then told me about how Natural bloods and Artificial bloods were absolute enemies, but who cares? Her fingers sprouted iron. I hadn't sensed anything supernatural about her...although I couldn't really sense anything anyway.

I touched it, oohed and owed, it was real, really, really real. She also made a blade of sharp metal seemingly from air and made if vanish a second later.

"I wanna do it!" I had yelled. She had laughed and forced me into some type of silly mediation in which I made attempts at contacting my inner metal, sort of... Tarla told me the ability was inside of me but I have to draw it out. Well, I looked inside of myself, I even looked under myself, but I couldn't make iron fingers. I was disappointed. She wasn't very happy about it either.

But after four years our long ass time out was over, because Lady Ann brought me actual clothing to put on. A pair of gray pants and a black shirt, as well as a fluffy yellow jacket. I also got to put on shoes for the first time in this life time, they were normal black boots, surprisingly light for such heavy looking things.

"Are we going outside, mommy?" I asked shifting through the clothing after Lady Ann had left. I hate that greasy old fart. The old hag was always being passive-aggressive to Tarla, cheap shots like underhandedly mentioning Tarla's gut from not being able to exercise in four years. Stupid old bag had humongous cankles.

"You will be attending the academy." She had lightly smiled.

"Academy?" I had asked, first time hearing about it. The woman nodded as she began brushing the wild mess that is my hair.

"All Iron Bloods attend the academy," She had explained as I slid into the shirt and shorts. "We have to go sign you up today."

I have to admit, I was excited. The very thought of actually going outside was enough to make me hop up and down like I was going to pee on myself, but add in the fact that I wouldn't be at home all day, had me running around and leaping on and off the bed like I had found and devoured all of Tarla's candy stash.

"Freedom!" I yelled like a lunatic. I blamed my behavior on me being physically five years old.

Tarla laughed at me and watched me celebrate my new found freedom for a while, before cruelly bursting my bubble. "Because of who you are, Bonnie dear, you will have to act accordingly."

Excitement thrashed, I landed on the bed before bouncing off, I almost landed on my face. I wasn't use to my small body and limps yet. "What?" I questioned.

"You should remember your manners, Bonnie." She told me, "You must bow to those of higher standings then yourself."

I pouted because and bowing and being 'lower' then someone else wasn't something I was use too, like a normal person. "How can I tell if someone is of higher standings?"

"Branmon's main and branch family, your teachers, anyone older then you..."

"So everyone?" I questioned dryly. Tarla nodded seriously. "We'll talk more about it when we return home." The woman grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the iron door, opening it without even touching it. It was pretty cool, but I was fully distracted by finally feeling sunlight on my skin. I beamed, soaking it in, I had always liked sunlight.

We lived on a narrow corridor of iron and brick homes, with a ground paved with loose cobble. There were homes in front of ours and behind ours, It wasn't much to look at. Before I could suck in anymore clear air, Tarla had tugged me left, zooming down the corridor and by lines of iron doors. At the end of the corridor the cobble expanded, opening up onto a larger road and much taller buildings. There was droves of people walking about, the noise of their voices was new and almost over-whelming, it only got worse when Tarla pushed our way into the foot traffic. I wasn't very fond of crowds before I was reborn, now was no different.

Noticing my discomfort, Tarla tugged me closer to her body, weaving me in around people. It took me a while to calm myself, to stop looking around like a crazy person and wanting to yell at _everyone_ who bumped into me, to actually begin to notice a few of the looks we were getting.

They weren't glares per say, but they weren't _friendly_. I had looked up at Tarla, nearly tripping over my own feet. I was seriously clumsy in this new body. Tarla was looking straight ahead of her, ignoring everyone around her. I frowned. She looked down at me briefly, smiling a small smile.

"What's the matter?"

I could only shake my head.

I was out of breath by the time we came to stop in front of a food cart. "Two cups of bleeding legs." Tarla told the old man standing behind a row of steaming metal pots. My head snapped around as I stared at her. She ignored me at first, lifting a golden pouch from her side and removing two coins from it, handing to the man. She looked down at me as the man began filling Styrofoam cups with something lumpy and liquid like. What are we now, vampires?

"That's... that's coming from an animal right?" I asked hesitantly. With all the other weird stuff going on around here, who can blame me for asking?

Tarla was obviously amused by my question, and I suppose what ever my face looked like. The woman ruffled my already messy hair affectionately. "Yes, my dear." She turned away, taking the cups from the man.

"You have a beautiful daughter." The cart owner said, bowing his head briefly.

"Thank you," Tarla said sort of coldly, handing me the cup. It was hot and it's odor wasn't too bad. I stared down into the cup, inside were gray and brown pieces of meat swimming in a dark, bloody looking soup. It was gross. Tarla dipped her fingers into her own cup, fishing out one of the circles of meat, sticking it into her mouth. I shivered. She glanced at me with a half-smile, teeth bloody. "Go on, give it a try, Bonnie, it's good." I blinked at her. "At least a tiny bite, it's good for you, I promise."

I had doubts. Well, I looked down at the bloody soup, not wanting the woman to have wasted money on me, I carefully dipped my fingers into the cup, pulling out one of the brown pieces, I took a very small bite.

It was...good! Actually, the best thing I've tasted here. It was surprisingly sweet and sort of spicy, I shoved what was left of it into my mouth, then another and another, until the cup was empty of meat.

"You like it, Bonnie?"

I nodded happily, licking the bloody soup from my fingers. "It's really good." We had began walking again and were now in a less crowed part of the city - Pi city is the name of the city I learned. I smiled at Tarla as we came to a stop in front of a gate, which was housing what looked like a play ground. "What's that?" I questioned as she began wiping my face and fingers with a napkin.

"Training ground..." She uttered distractedly, trying to manage my unruly hair.

I frowned. "What type of training?"

She frowned at me. "I told you this Bonnie..." She looked worried, so I racked my brain for what in the hell she was talking about.

"Training to become Blood Iron warriors." I answered, remembering her mentioning Blood Iron warriors fought against Natural Bloods and other opposing Artificial Blood warriors. I glanced behind me at the towering stone building, the top of it on a golden plaque were the words: Iron Academy. "Why is there a training ground at the academy?" I swear I'm dense.

Tarla's expression said she also thought as much. "The academy trains Blood Iron warriors, Bonnie. Are you still asleep?"

I had pouted like the child I was, which makes her smile. "Come on my child." She took my hand again and began pulling me towards the academy.

Wait... "I'm going to be a warrior?"

She nodded, her face taking on an odd look. "You're going to be the best."

And suddenly I wished for our safe tiny shack.


End file.
